


Watch

by RaisedByCats



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Exhibitionism, Hux is Not Nice, Kylo Kinda Deserved It, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, feelings are hurt, i'm FINE, it's fine, it's probably fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisedByCats/pseuds/RaisedByCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kylux hard kink prompt: Hux dials Ren while being roughly fucked by another man. Ren begs him to come home, Hux deals with it as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch

On the fifth chime, he's stumbling up a flight of stairs, a strong hand catching him by the shoulder before he falls onto his face. The man that catches him laughs and Hux growls back. The apartments are small and nondescript; he makes a hazy note of the numbers outside as he waits for the dark haired man to produce his keys. It's barely open before those strong hands are at his shoulders again, there's an unfamiliar tongue in his mouth and he backs awkwardly into the room without breaking the hard kiss. His companion is shorter and he needs to tilt his face down to reach him. It pulls him out of his fantasy. This was the closest thing he could find on short notice, though, and there's no denying the lean muscles under those clothes. 

Hux would know. He's been sizing them up with his eyes and bold strokes of his hands, communicating clearly what couldn't be said over the noise of other patrons. He's talented at getting what he wants without the indignity of having to vocalize it. The fingers grabbing at his ass are insistent and Hux pushes back against full lips with teeth and bruising force. Not quite perfect enough. He feels wanted, but what he _wants_ is to be overwhelmed. He can't blame this random victim of his for not living up to his standards and settles for closing his eyes and raking his teeth down the man's soft throat, hoping this will encourage him to perform as desired. Hux forgets to fish the phone out of his jacket when it drops to the floor. 

The sixth chime comes hard on the heels of the fifth, but Hux is on his knees already, lazily shoving the man -what did he say his name was? Poe? Ridiculous- back against the cheap bookcase and fumbling at his belt. Hux ignores the noise and slaps away the hand that tries to stroke his hair, instead pinning it back against the man's waist as he laughs drunkenly. Affection isn't part of the narrative he's after. The part of him not soliciting nearly anonymous lookalikes for sex is affronted that someone other than Kylo might touch him that way. His tolerance of personal dishevelment does not extend as far as his impersonal need (want, he will grudgingly admit that this is a want, not a need, but only later) to get off roughly, quickly. And he does want. He wants the smell of hot skin as his nose grazes soft black curls, he wants a mindless task to busy himself with, he wants another indignant chime he can contemptuously ignore. But there's no sound except a soft enthusiastic _fuck_ as he swallows the man's cock down after his whiskey.

He's distracted and more than a little drunk himself. Poe isn't as long as he's used to, but Hux is making the job somewhat faster and sloppier than usual, too, and he pulls off coughing and wiping his mouth after a few moments. His partner laughs again, Hux resists rolling his eyes, and Poe pulls him to his feet, tugging the thin t-shirt up over his head. There's a flash of self-consciousness, Hux prepares his best expression of defensive loathing, but there's only a crooked smirk of appreciation as Poe reaches up to brush a thumb over one rosy nipple. Hux shivers and slaps the hand away again. He manhandles Poe's clothes off, tugging pants down, kicking shoes away, making a nonchalant mess of it until they're both naked and slightly out of breath. Poe rests a hand on his hip to guide him over to the bed but Hux has other plans, impatiently dragging him down to the floor on top of him. This is part of what he needs right now. Naked and opened to someone. Waiting for huge, frighteningly strong hands to take him and make him into something else. It's drafty, the rug is cheap and scratches his thin shoulderblades almost immediately. Poe is warm and solid between his legs, damp cock rutting slowly against Hux's. The chime goes off once more and Hux does roll his eyes this time, groping behind him for the jacket and pressing a finger to his lips with a stern look at Poe. He grins back cheekily, straightening up onto his knees to pull a bottle out from behind a row of books in the case. He's back between Hux's legs, lower now, two slick fingers pressing insistently along the ridge behind his balls as Hux flicks the phone on. He tilts his hips up for Poe as he dials, bracing his soft bare soles on the rough carpet. Hux considers draping a leg across Poe's shoulders, discards the idea despite the awkwardness of laying with his legs dangling apart. He doesn't bother reading the stack of messages piling up.

The line hardly rings once before there's a low, heated voice in his ear.

"Hux!" 

"What do you want?" Hux snaps, gazing down in approval at the man with his lips stretched slippery around his cock, slowly and worshipfully working his way down to the red gold curls as he swirls his fingertips around Hux's hole. His stomach tightens expectantly, but he's proud that his voice remains level.

"Where are you? We're not done." He's a brooding, sulking thundercloud of a man and Hux can feel how he's hunched around the phone resentfully without even seeing him. He threads his fingers through Poe's hair, thinking spiteful thoughts about how soft it is, and how considerate he is with his mouth. A hot tongue drags down his balls, chasing after the slick fingers working him open. His cock jumps and Hux lets a moment of silence drag out before answering, taking a long thin breath through his nose. 

"None of your business. And we _are_ done. It isn't up to you, Ren, when we're done." It's hard to focus with Poe's dark, lascivious eyes on him, Hux hopes it's merely the drink driving the man to stare at him like he needs seducing, as if he isn't already flat on his back with Poe's fingers and tongue between his legs. If he wanted sincerity in his fuck, he wouldn't have picked it up at a bar. It puts him too much in mind of Ren and his outrageous emoting. He pushes down impatiently, feeling the second knuckles glide past his rim with a thrill of pleasure. 

"So you just run off whenever the real fight starts, is that it? It's because you know I'm right, isn't it?"

There's something delicious about listening to Kylo's frustrated graspings with another man on top of him, and he's allowing himself to gloat about it just a little when a third finger stretches him and they twist unexpectedly.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," Kylo growls in his ear as Hux chokes down a soft whine. Possibly he thinks Hux is laughing at him and is preparing to throw more kitchenware. Hux glares a little at Poe, who only pinches one long pale thigh with his free hand in response. Hux can't tell if he expects him to get off the phone, but he's enjoying himself too much to end this yet. It's petty, it's frankly pointless, Ren has no idea where he is or who he's with. He's going to keep it up as long as he can. It's handily giving him an excuse not to endure terrible bedroom talk. Judging by the filthy looks Hux is getting in between fresh licks he expects it would be hideous and humiliating. Poe is fiddling with the bottle again, using his mouth creatively while his hands work between his own thighs. Hux ignores him. 

"Nothing. I'm coming by tomorrow. I'll drop off the key. I won't be dragged back into your-" Poe rears back on his knees and flips him over rudely, at last taking Hux's alternately violent and dismissive cues as permission for a rough impersonal fuck, and cutting the last word short with a slight gasp as Hux lands on his stomach. He can practically hear him smirking without looking over his shoulder. Hux swats him ineffectually on the hip as he's pulled up onto his knees and elbows, trying to remember what he was about to say when Poe's thick head begins easing into him. Hux gasps and tries to keep his balance with the phone stuck to his ear, not even noticing the throaty moan of the man filling him in his rush to cover the mic. 

"Hux, what the fu-" There's a long pause, Hux bites his already battered lip bloody in the unbearable stretch of time it takes for Kylo to regain his powers of speech and Poe to tug their hips together tightly. "Who's that? Who are you with? Is it fucking Dopheld? Hux, what the FUCK-" Hux can hear the rage starting to ramp up in Kylo's voice, it sends a familiar spike of panic through his brain, but his companion pulls nearly free, grips him by the waist and shoves back in with a punishing, half-painful thrust. It catches Hux off guard and knocks the phone out of his hand to the floor, he cries out in surprise. The speaker is silent underneath him, far away while he struggles to find a rhythm through the haze of drink and pleasure and pain. He's now furious and still desperate to be fucked out of his mind, something that Poe seems happy to oblige him in. If he could even lift a hand without being shoved forward onto his chest and left in an unflattering flushed pile with his ass in the air, he assumes Ren has smashed his phone into the wall by now and moved on to heavier, more satisfying objects. The thought of the ensuing carnage fills Hux with a vitriol that sustains him through the initial discomfort.

So he gives in. He pants into his arm for as long as he can maintain dignity, until Poe folds down heavily over his back and wraps a still slick hand around his cock. He's hot and comfortable pressed against him, but ultimately it isn't enough when Hux is used to feeling as if he's owned, restrained, about to be crushed under the weight of something that thankfully is as interested in Hux's pleasure as his own. Hux takes what he can from this uncoordinated lurching and second hand brunettes. He's too gnawed by anxiety to come despite his painful arousal, but they stay that way, Hux groaning under him until Poe drops back and sprawls out, too tired or too drunk to finish both of them. 

Hux will be damned if he's ending the day missing both a boyfriend _and_ a satisfying fuck, no matter what he had in mind. He shuffles resignedly backward to straddle Poe's hips, chafing both his knees in the process. He reaches between them to grip Poe's cock, sliding down over it with a wince and a soft whimper. This isn't defeat, not yet.

Poe seems content beneath him, eyes closed, moaning softly in his throat while Hux moves over him on shaking thighs. _Fuck._ Panic is keeping him from fully appreciating a good revenge lay, his own cock is only half-hard and flagging. There's anger, too, anger that Ren has this ability to make Hux lose his calm and strategic sense, dragging him along into the logic-defying shouting matches that leave Hux red-faced and distressed and half the living room strewn all over the house. It's infuriating to allow anyone that kind of power. His fingers are shaking, when he arches forward to snag the phone from the floor. Poe seems unaware of the movements that don't directly involve his dick and grips Hux's hips to pull him down harder with each stroke. Hux flinches and shudders appreciatively. He checks the screen.

The call is still open. 

He holds it to his ear numbly. A nervous, frustrated determination stands in for the cool confidence he doesn't feel. There's a soft sound he can't make out on the other end, no words. When Poe traces his fingers down the long curve of Hux's spine he makes no effort to hold in a long, lustful sigh. The noises on the other side pause, he can hear a breath.

"Hux?" 

He doesn't answer, except for a deeper, more satisfied moan as he sinks down as far as he can and _grinds_ , the skin where their hips meet a sweaty mess. He keens when Poe jerks his hips up and sets him moving again. Kylo's voice comes again and this time it's soft, almost apologetic. It's a surreal thing to hear, both of them knowing Hux is listening with a stranger's cock buried in him. Hux in control, Kylo detached and helpless. He can't help but will his frustration into the spiteful sounds coming out of him. _This is yours, you fool. It's your own fault. Listen._

"Hux, please."

Hux breathes at him, open-mouthed. He's hard again. Unbelievably hard.

"I'm sorry. Please, I-" 

Hux wonders if he's imagining the catch in his voice, but it sends his hand to his cock regardless. It's almost painful to touch it now. He knows he won't be able to keep quiet if he flicks a thumb over his head, so he does. The skin is wet, dripping, red. Insanely sensitive. He chokes out a cry, and is rewarded with another involuntary sound from Kylo.

"You don't have to do...that. You don't have to find someone else to-" Hux hears the deep intake of breath and knows that it isn't the difficulty in saying the word that stops Kylo from saying it, it's an actual concerted effort not to spit it at Hux. "-to hurt me," he finishes instead. Hux manages a short derisive laugh at this, punctuated by the obscene sounds of their bodies slapping together that he's sure Kylo can hear. There's a short, shaky exhale in his ear and Hux grips the base of his cock and sets his jaw to restrain himself from coming right then.

"Hux. Come home. Please. I'm sorry." As if that were enough. Hux holds out, releasing his cock to drag his nails down the inside of Poe's thigh. Hux's lips twist in a harsh smile when he rasps out 'Oh, _fuck_ yeah' in a hoarse voice loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Hux is giddy from the sensation of controlling both of them at once.

"I'll do anything. Please." A light sob. Unmistakable. _Now this is rich._ Hux finds himself wishing he had a recording of those words to play back at his whim. He wonders what Kylo looks like right now. Hand over his brow? Covering his eyes, holding back tears? Gritting his teeth to keep from crying while Hux grits his teeth to fend off his orgasm? He feels lightheaded and his thighs burn, he isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up. If it weren't for the drinks he's sure they'd both have spent themselves by now. If Kylo is a sight, Hux knows he is equally so: flushed, defiant, sweat softening and dislodging his hair out of its smooth order, dripping down his chest. Imperious.

The phone is slippery in his hand. He takes it away from his ear, stares at it like a foreign object. He keys the _Video_ button. 

 

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Kylo hears a brush of static and brings the phone down to frown at it. There's a blur of orange and white, and blue shadows, then an image of Hux resolves. He stares at it for a second, stunned before clapping the heel of his hand down over his own camera. Hux frowns back, moving in and out of the frame slightly as he...Kylo swallows. He'd known, he'd heard, but somehow he hadn't actually gotten to the image of Hux being fucked by another man. His stomach lurches. There's a rush of blood to his face, and Kylo is grateful he'd managed to hide before Hux saw him undone like this. Then there's a second rush of blood to his cock. 

He's beautiful. He's so fucking beautiful. He's propped the phone somewhere in front of him, a desk, a chair, Kylo can't tell but he's on level with sex-hazed pale green eyes, and he knows Ren is watching him because he leans back and runs a hand through his hair in a calculated pose. It's wanton and maddening. Hux knows his obsession with seeing his hair pulled down around his face, soft and fine. He can feel it between his fingers as if he were doing it himself but all he can do is watch as Hux shakes it loose and fists his hands in it.

There's a clear view of him from just below his chest. Kylo can see his skin flushing deep red from his throat down to above his nipples and his narrow chest is heaving with exertion. He wants nothing more than to lay his hands on it and feel how hot the skin is underneath them. It's unlike their usual sessions, Hux pliant and gasping, begging underneath him. Hux has never offered this or asked for it, but he wants it now, wants the commanding gaze and the slight sneer looking down at him. He's grateful and envious that the image doesn't reach lower. He can't see someone else's cock sliding in and out of him, but he can hear it, watch its effects in the tremors of Hux's face. Absently he lets go of the camera to shift his weight on the the bed, jeans stretching uncomfortably tight. He freezes as Hux blinks, leans forward to look at him. 

Hux's arms brace him, taking some of his weight off his tired legs. Sweat beads and drips down the 'v' of his chest as his shoulders hunch forward. Kylo licks his lips unconsciously. He knows how he must look. Red-eyed, hair wild from pulling at it, wrecked and vulnerable and desperate. 

Hux smiles. His eyes are clearer now, they're furious and challenging in a way Kylo is not used to seeing. He feels himself shrink under them even as he gets fully hard watching Hux relentlessly fuck himself on someone else. He gets the sense that he could scream now, uselessly, and Hux would simply hang up and finish without him. At once he's desperate for that not to happen because Hux is looking at _him_ with hunger and rage, and though Kylo's brain may still be catching up to what's passing between them, his cock is painfully aware already. He braces the phone on his knee, taking the focus farther away from his face, and Hux looks him over slowly, raising his eyebrows. _Well?_

The dynamic between them has silently changed. Kylo can't disobey, wouldn't if he could. He looks down and flicks open the button of the fly, the motion oddly shy as he glances uncertainly between his hand and Hux's hard eyes. He's silent as he takes himself out, fists his cock. He sets the phone on the desk, gently, careful to let Hux see all of him. Contrite. Eager to please. Hux's mouth opens. Kylo has no way of knowing if the shudder going through him has something to do with him or the man Hux is using, but the view is arresting. The light is dim, turning Hux's skin bluish and grainy. His mouth is wet and too red. A dark bruise marks his bottom lip and a shot of jealousy and need twinges in Kylo's chest. He matches the pace of his hand to Hux's; he's leaning back again to free a hand for his own cock. There's a lump in Kylo's throat as a gasp rises in Hux's, he knows the sound intimately, just as he knows the broken whimper that follows it, and the jerk of his hips when he twists in Kylo's arms and buries his face in his chest. They lock eyes before Hux tips over the brink, spills over his hand as his hips falter and sink back down. Kylo can't think of anything else as he follows him over into his own orgasm, intoxicated by the sight. They're alone together. They breathe heavily, Hux's eyes downcast, gold lashes sweeping over his blue cheeks. Hux reaches out toward him without looking up and the phone goes dark. The numbers tick past with muffled sounds behind them. Kylo waits, not even daring to get up and clean himself yet. 

The call ends.

A minute ticks by as he sits in shocked silence, come cooling on his hands and jeans, trying to understand how he'd ruined things this time. 

The phone chimes. An address, and a message.  
_Come get me. We're not done. ___

**Author's Note:**

> Drinking made writing this seem like a good idea. Tomorrow!me is going to be so mad, guys. Don't drink beer and write prompts, kids.


End file.
